


Glass Jar Full of Stars

by PaigeRoma



Series: Doctor [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Human Experimentation, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, Science Fiction, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23358418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeRoma/pseuds/PaigeRoma
Summary: Freedom. Ayla did not understand the word any more. She was lost, the TARDIS her only companion. So when Ayla finds the Doctor wheezing for his life, she steps up.Or does she? How will Ayla overcome this latest disaster?
Relationships: Amy Pond/Rory Williams, Eleventh Doctor/Original Character(s), Eleventh Doctor/Original Female Character(s), Eleventh Doctor/River Song
Series: Doctor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675150
Comments: 15
Kudos: 27





	1. Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, again friends!
> 
> Welcome to the second instalment of 'Doctor' and a continuation of Ayla's adventures after Stowaway.
> 
> This series is designed to be read chronologically, but however you may have stumbled across my work, I hope you enjoy it all the same.
> 
> Now as the Doctor often says, before jumping headfirst into something: GERONIMO!

Surrounded by long grass swaying in a very synchronized wave, Ayla slept. The phoenix coloured hair splayed around like a blanket, tiny strands of grass peeking through like a surprise. The garnet roots of her hair faded to an almost white blonde. Single strands of white peeking through the dark root, winding and being lost into that blonde. Waves kinked in the mane haphazardly, and the breeze the Tardis liked to use in this room grew stronger.

A chunk of the hair fell into the sleeping woman's face. Thousands of tiny iridescent scales shimmering like dew as Ayla scrunched her face attempting to move the strand of hair with her nose.

She was unsuccessful, but still, those eyes were closed. The Tardis implemented the final step, that smell of rain before it falls.

_Petrichor_.

The efforts were rewarded with a musical yawn. Deep green eyes peeking through a curtain of thick lashes. Ayla loved waking up to the smell of petrichor now. The warm feeling of the sun on her face. It wasn’t a real sun. Ayla understood that now.

The ship that had saved her, the TARDIS...it was alive. She closed her eyes a grin fighting its way over her features. A living ship...

A very weird idea Ayla admitted to herself, but the vibrations that she could always feel through the floor of the ship? That was enough to convince her the Tardis was different. Not to mention the constantly changing hallways. Ayla had lived on vessels all her life but had never struggled to remember her way around.

One of the experiments her guardian first installed had been into the head. She always seemed to know East from West, North from South. Ayla named the experiment navigator because it let her escape situations with pinpoint direction recall.

Not so useful here, though.

No other dank metal vessel she had been on changed their insides so frequently. Only the Tardis.

_It was strange_ , she thought stretching her limbs through the long fresh grass that filled the room, frowning as the sun seemed to disappear. She wondered if the Tardis had decided to add another tree for her to climb today.

It seemed to like introducing her to different things.

When she had discovered Harry Potter in the library (which was only a few 'days' ago, not that she could tell) Ayla stayed up devouring the series. All the while the Tardis seemed to have the most fun, setting the sun in her grass room on multiple occasions. 

It oddly set the mood for Ayla in the darker moments of the adventure. Often too absorbed to pay attention.

Rory had gifted her his flashlight some time back when he noticed Ayla spent too much time reading in the dark. The little light certainly assisted Ayla in staying awake through the Tardis’ normal entertaining light shows.

As if the ship was talking to her about its journies.

Ayla liked to think the Tardis talked to her in its unique way.

She rolled to her side, snuggling into the soft grass squashed into a bed. Chasing a little more sleep.

Rory had been confused at Ayla’s reluctance to sit on the couches the library. Or the bed he shared with Amy Pond. Ayla frowned as her brain thought it over, the light of the false sun brightening once more.

Ayla hadn’t seen much of Amy since the beginning. Almost as if the woman had more important things to attend, and now that Ayla wasn’t a threat to her?

Ayla could do what she wanted.

Rory Williams, on the other hand, he didn’t seem real to her.

The kind smile, and encyclopedic knowledge he had of _Earth_. Ayla couldn’t believe it was a real place. She had grown up where Earth had been a story, so old it became a myth.

Her kind had been enslaved long ago. That’s what she was told, so with Ayla’s many questions Rory never hesitated with a smile and an answer. No matter how many more questions that seemed to bring on.

In many ways, Ayla was reminded of her brother from long ago. She didn’t remember what he looked like, only the feelings of happiness. Like she felt sleeping here in the Tardis.

_But he is dead_ , her brain supplied dismally replaying those images she wanted to forget.

The experiments that had taken him from her.

At the same time, all light in the Tardis went out.

Even with eyes shut Ayla noticed everything change instantly, and she was awake in moments.

Pulling the little flashlight from where she had it tucked inside her uniform sleeve. Her eyes adjusted to the black. She clicked the flashlight eyes complaining at the sharp contrast.

It was _exceptionally_ dark, and she couldn’t feel the vibrations from the Tardis as strongly.

Something was dreadfully wrong. It was the same feeling when her guardian had taken her for final testing. When she knew she had to escape or something dreadful was going to happen.

She did end up flying right into a black hole, so in a lot of ways that something dreadful _did_ happen.

Ayla didn’t pause to question the feeling, digging her toes through the grass of her bed. She felt those vibrations so faintly on her tiptoes she wasn't even sure the Tardis was **on**.

Holding the light out and casting a short glance at her surroundings; the grass seemed to be lifeless in her room.

_The only way to fix it is to find the problem_.

Ayla managed to exit her room with no issues, the door needing only minor force to pry open. The hallway seemed dim, and as she stepped out the vibrations seemed different.

_Urgent_.

With a deep breath, she followed the vibrations, feeling oddly blind like when she first arrived. Should anyone have seen Ayla running, it would have looked more like she was _speed sliding_ across the Tardis floor. Her feet never quite breaking contact, following the vibrations until they were so strong she slid into the console room door.

Gently flicking her hair over a shoulder, Ayla sniffed at the door as if to say, _I meant to do that_.

Her nose twinged a bit, but if she wanted to go exploring in the Tardis Ayla would need to pretend nothing happened. _Just focus on opening these doors._

Carefully embedding her fingernails into the cracks of the door she began to work.

Her nails were always hard, and she didn't bring any weapons on her escape. Nor did she know where any were. Instead, Ayla wiggled her nails into the cracks until her fingers could fit. Then the rest was easy. Sliding her hand along the frame Ayla found her grip and pried the metal apart as if the door were fully operational.

_Nice_ , her brain applauded only to halt instantly.

The console room was so much darker than she remembered it. Colder too, with blue light flashing in a warning. _Medical_ , Ayla wondered as she attempted to read the light show.

Ayla hadn't entered the console room since her first day. And that glass floor still gave her those uncomfortable flips in her stomach.

Whatever was wrong, Ayla was going to need to step up.

So why was she wondering, w _here are my shoes?_


	2. Lights Out

Ayla noticed the dark console room, the flashing blue lights and a little girl. The hair of the girl was so similar to Amy’s even in the poor lighting. The girl looked back at her and Ayla’s breath caught.

In a moment the image changed entirely; a wild woman with curly dark hair and bright eyes so eerily familiar Ayla was certain she knew her. At the same moment, Ayla blinked, the image returned to the little girl and she heard a moan.

The panic in Ayla filtered through every nerve.

“- River needs me,” the oddly familiar voice was gasping supposedly at the kid, “She’s only just beginning. I can’t die now.”

“You will not die now. You will die in thirty-two minutes,” the girl replied in an oddly monotonous voice, no longer looking to Ayla.

Ayla blinked at that particular information.

Ignoring the painful zaps to the flats of her feet, and regaining control over her breathing. Obviously the girl was a voice interface for the...

Ayla should have known, it was for the Tardis.

_Of course, it would have one, it **is** a ship after all._

“I’m not going out on the first round. Ringing any bells?” the Doctor snarked back at the image. He screamed in pain again, and the zap on Ayla’s foot was hot enough to burn. She really needed to wear shoes.

With a hiss, she moved towards the man she hadn’t seen since day one. Peeking around the corner, she spied the writhing form on the ground. The floppy brown hair and thick clothing all too familiar. She heard him speak between clenched teeth and ducked her head to stay out of view.

“Okay, need something for the pain now,” the Doctor tried and failed to roll onto his four limbs, “C’mon, Amelia. It’s me. Please.”

In a weird way, Ayla felt like she was intruding, and glanced at the little girl like it was Amy herself.

“I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface.”

Ayla winced at the reply, **_right_**. Amy isn’t here. So Ayla would have to help the weird man, which would involve touching him. She assessed the Doctor, looking for the most clothed part she could touch. All the while the Doctor kept speaking to the girl writhing like a fish.

_How was she going to pick up **that**?_

“Amelia, listen to me. I can be brave for you, but you’ve got to tell me how.”

If she were Amy, this would be better. What _would_ Amy do? Ayla remembered Rory telling her a story. It had been when Ayla tried to eat for the first time. About Amy meeting the Doctor and having a similar strange taste.

“I am not Amelia Pond. I am a voice interface,” the girl repeated.

“Amelia. Amelia, please.”

The way his voice broke...the absolute pain...

It was enough to send Ayla’s heart into a trill. But what could Ayla do? She wasn’t the person the Doctor was asking for. The person the Doctor so desperately needed right now. _Where **was** she?_

If **only** she could mimic little Amelia’s voice. That would be the best thing. Give the Doctor a little hope, reactivate the self-preservation. Don’t hurt the pride or ego.

Exactly what he did for her.

That was the least she could do, right?

Ayla instantly moved closer to the console. Ensuring she was out of sight. Staring at the strange controls, Ayla ignored them all.

Some technologies required no input through physical need. More a telepathic control through wants and desires.

Her guardian spoke no language she understood. The technologies used were controlled by their will, as were the experiment technologies. Ayla had become proficient in hacking her guardian’s controls, what would make the Tardis so different?

She noticed a smooth empty potion of the controls. _Bingo._

With a hand pushed against the sleek copper metal of the Tardis, Ayla closed her eyes. Willing her thoughts into the interface. There was a familiar feeling of peace when she found the subroutine she wanted. Like pieces of an impossible puzzle slotting into place. So when Ayla moved her mouth - it was the voice interface that spoke; “Fish Fingers.”

“What did you say? Fish fingers and custard?” the Doctors excitement was tangible, “Oh, Amelia Pond.”

She could hear the Doctor moving now, properly getting up. Those ridiculous feet slipping beneath him, grunting between his next sentence, “fish...fingers...and... **custard**!”

But Ayla couldn’t keep the control up. It was like the Tardis pushed her out. She snatched her hand back, feeling the faint tingle of an electrical burn.

And absentmindedly her right hand began rolling up the uniform sleeve of her wounded hand. Thin lace tattoos looped around the inside of her wrist, and Ayla she traced a particular pattern on the ink.

The charcoal black changing to a veined blue.

She could help the Doctor with his pain, Ayla realised belatedly. That’s exactly what she was doing to herself; the palm of her left hand took on that same gross blue colour.

Ayla was going to have to touch him.

_Great_.

She peaked around the console at the Doctor, trying to stand with all his might. The mantra of fish fingers and custard continuing with each attempt. But those long limbs betrayed him and Ayla couldn’t watch any longer.

With the same sliding contact from before -(Ayla refused to fall through the glass again)- Ayla appeared in front of the doctor.

Heart thundering into her ears at the sheer panic of needing to touch another person.

But those big blue eyes stared at her with such surprise Ayla couldn’t resist.

Her left hand connected to the entirety of the Doctor’s face. Ayla winced at the hard cartilage she felt, knowing his nose would hurt after.

At least Ayla couldn’t see those eyes anymore and with the same willful action, she _pushed_ the energy from her body into his.

Because this was where Ayla paid back her debt, and maybe... just _maybe_ the Doctor might talk to her.


	3. Restart

Ayla didn't know when she was supposed to take her hand away from the Doctor's face. She didn't know what she had done, but if it helped _her_ in taking away pain surely it could help him?

The only problem was... Ayla couldn't check to see if the blue discolouration was gone. She had flung her palm out at him in the hopes to try and gather herself a bit more. In doing so, the top half of his face was covered.

There was no way her hand was enough to cover that jaw. So with the uncovered bottom half of the Doctor's face showing... Ayla could only grimace.

Lips parted in soft breaths that blew against her wrist unsteadily. She could even feel the rough stubble scratch against the bottom part of her hand, and Ayla wanted the sensation to end quickly.

Part of her didn't, and luckily the breaths didn't take long to stabilise. With Ayla too busy internalising her anxiety she belatedly realised those big blue eyes were on her again.

Pinning her to the spot with a thousand questions Ayla didn't want to answer. Instead, the Doctor blinked, jumped to his feet and after toppling slightly, made his way to the console.

And with a violent rush, the vibrations came flooding back into her feet as the TARDIS came alive once more.

Ayla noticed the Doctor still looked unstable, but she didn't quite know what to say. He kept his back turned, hands turning white as he tried to make his way around.

His legs still seemed to be failing him, and Ayla was just standing about not doing a thing.

"What can I do to help you?" she asked, swallowing the wetness of her mouth as the Doctor looked back at her in surprise. Like he forgot she was there.

That would have hurt if she were more practised with humans. She really wasn't, just weirded out by the sudden emotional shifts. Hard to predict.

"I need a suit," he informed her. Importantly.

"You need a doctor," Ayla replied.

"I am a doctor," he shrugged and winced, "Poison of the Judas Tree. No regeneration. Dead in thirty minutes. Well, forty-five thanks to your blue hand thingy. Thank you by the way. Enough time to save River and party. I like parties."

Ayla blinked at the explanation.

There were only a thousand questions she wanted to ask, but she shook her head instead. Now was not the time.

"So, a suit?"

The Doctor nodded.

"One with a hat, I like hats," he added. Ayla pointed to the front of his current suit and the Doctor blinked down before smiling, "The bow-tie is already essential."

"I take it you may need help with a costume change," Ayla prompted because she wasn't going to just _offer_.

"Would you mind?"

Ayla attempted to smile as she shook her head, that _no she wouldn't mind_. In reality, she did. Ayla did mind and would much have preferred to be back in her grass room. But maybe her debt wasn't quite done yet.

Maybe she had to prove her worth a little more.

The Doctor led the way to what he called a wardrobe, and to where Ayla hated being the most.

Rory and Amy had taken her there after her first long sleep. Attempting to get her a new uniform. Ayla could not comprehend the idea of shedding her current uniform. Especially for the _layers_ of clothes. No, Ayla's current clothing was the most practical.

"You might want to try on a new-" the Doctor was cut off by a jacket with tails being thrown into Ayla's face. She caught the offending item and approached him. Ensuring her hands stayed completely clear of touching him again, "-outfit or something. Could be a big day."

Ayla stared at him in horror as he readjusted the jacket she just put on. "Is there something wrong with my clothing?"

Either the wince the Doctor gave her was from the look on Ayla's face, or the poison coursing through him.

"Just a bit drab," he shrugged, "a _uniform_."

The word sounded like a punishment to him, and Ayla was entertained by the notion.

She had worn rags for most of her life. In and out of the labs too much to be given anything. At some point, they left her in her current uniform. It had felt like a promotion.

"It's fine," Ayla replied to the man, but the Doctor threw more pieces at her.

"Where's your sense of adventure, huh?" he whispered excitedly. In the attempt to race over to her, his left leg gave out. Catching himself before falling to the ground.

Ayla dumped the pile of clothing tossed at her. Pulling out a stick from a barrel of others. With what she assumed was a 'top-hat' it was a tall thing.

"Walk out of here with this," Ayla suggested gesturing over her shoulder with the cane and toward the console room, "and perhaps I'll change. In the time it takes you to get there who knows what could happen."

The Doctor didn't seem to appreciate the sarcasm at his current state of slowness. Though it was the most he had heard her voice, and the accent behind didn't seem to mean. Taking the walking cane offered, he smiled softly to her.

She'd selected his Sonic cane, how lucky.

Ayla didn't understand why her heart seemed to go numb at that action. It was only made worse when the Doctor limped towards her taking the hat from the loose grip.

It was like he purposefully touched her hand. His fingers seeming to linger for a moment. Maybe Ayla was just too unfamiliar with this situation.

She was reading into things.

"Be quick, wouldn't want to miss the fun. Right, Ayla?" the wink the Doctor left her with almost made Ayla wish she could stand the physical contact.

She was impressed the Doctor remembered her name and watched him limp out.

Highly entertained by the two tails of his jacket and the figure that was wearing it.

_Cute._


	4. Geronimo!

There was no way Ayla was changing. Glancing back at the offending pile the Doctor had procured in case she saw something. It was behind the pile, on the wall, where Ayla noted one oddly familiar painting.

“Hey,” Ayla half-laughed, “Aren’t you fruits supposed to be in Hogwarts?”

Stepping over the pile, Ayla tickled the middle pear and was not the least bit surprised when the painting responded to her exactly like the novel. The portrait pushed back into the wall before sliding into nothing and revealing a dimly lit passage.

Something was trying to pull Ayla into the passage.

But she didn’t realise it was gravity, and Ayla didn’t realise she falling until it was already too late.

With a desperate shout of, “DOCTOR!”

Ayla hit the floor of the Tardis with a hard _bang_ followed by constant moans.

Why was she constantly running into things today?

The Eleventh Doctor was at the console, the constant _wheezing_ of the Tardis sounding as he dialled up the controls. Hearing his name the Doctor’s eyes widened to impossible sizes when he spun to look.

Ayla was being propelled into the console room through the... roof?

If the console room were a pool, he might have laughed at the enormous belly flop Ayla was about to perform.

There was no water, however.

He raced to try and catch her, forgetting the cane he now needed. He fell and watched almost in slow motion as she hit the deck.

Wincing as the girl moaned pitifully from the floor. He crawled to her, placing a hand against her leg he tried to find out how bad she was.

Hard without a sonic, but he **was** a doctor. Two moments later he let out a heavy sigh of relief. Stable, but a lot of damage.

_What had happened_?

The Doctor had asked that out loud, and Ayla wasn’t as unconscious as she looked.

“Pear painting,” she wheezed, “fell through.”

The only conclusion was the Tardis. He was familiar with nothing else being so... temperamental. Besides, the Tardis had kept them apart all this time... maybe the restart caused the routine to reverse. Forcing them together.

Not his best theory.

He winced, body convulsing as he coughed dramatically replying, “I need to get to River.”

From the facedown position Ayla could almost visualise the damage in her body knowing she must have hit the ground from some distance. Everything seemed to hurt.

Her eyes still worked this time, and Ayla struggled to blink past the blood pooling underneath her.

“I’m sorry, but I need to get to River,” the Doctor’s voice was faint behind the roar of Ayla’s pain.

“Please, I’m sorry,” he was pleading with Ayla, asking her permission.

Her mind was preoccupied; if she could roll onto her side, take the pressure off her stomach... that would be great.

“Ayla-”

“Go,” Ayla snapped between her teeth. Managing to roll herself into the fetal position. Constant air hissing through her teeth in an undetectable pattern.

_You’ll be fine_ , Ayla was hissing to herself as she tore painfully at her uniform neckline. Desperately trying to get to her neck and the thin ink that she knew resided there.

_You’ll be okay_.

The Tardis began to wheeze. A sound Ayla knew was the Doctor piloting the ship. She should have expected to go sliding painfully across the glass.

Because she was on an entire floor of it.

And _why not_ add more pain to her body.

Ayla regretted not throwing her second shoe at the Doctor when she had the chance, but she still had no shoes.

Part of Ayla wondered if, like Rory over every little injury, the Doctor might stay by her side. But the wheezing she had come to understand as the Tardis moving? It only intensified.

In many ways, Ayla preferred that. Only mildly annoyed when she slid back over her own blood partway.

_Gross_ , she thought, wondering if this was the Doctor’s method of getting her to change clothes.

The floor seemed to become horizontal for longer than five seconds and Ayla took her chance. Hands painfully pulling at her uniformed neck to uncover the familiar ink. With enough room for her left index finger to move. She began to trace the pattern she often felt her guardian trace.

Ayla wasn’t quite sure if she would be able to activate it. She had never needed to before, nor did she know exactly what this would do.

But she hoped it would do something, and that was enough for her.

Ayla didn’t expect the oxygen in her neck to suddenly get cut off, or for her brain to feel like it was exploding. She hadn’t needed to fight with her body in such a long time, but the feeling of suffocation never left her - and Ayla didn’t have any time to react before her vision went black.

There was a small moment before it was lights out, where Ayla wondered if this was death.

She felt like her mind was floating.

Fully aware of the sounds of the Tardis, the constant calculations the Doctor murmured under his breath. Musical, even in the emotional state.

And then there was the tapping sound of shoes with a cane. It was evident to Ayla that she was not dead, just… floating.

The Doctor shouted his excitement when he punched in the coordinates. Time to party. Only to remember belatedly that his stowaway was dreadfully injured.

Pulling the Tardis in for a landing only he was capable of, the wheezing grew louder as the Doctor moved to Ayla.

His eyes widened when he realised he should have stabilized the poor woman first. Dried blood smeared around Ayla like a macabre snow angel. The woman was on her back, limbs splayed like a doll but if the Doctor listened past his own wheezing breaths he could hear faint snores. Her snores.

Each breath seeming to whisper something he couldn’t hear.

He counted them, staring at her chest belatedly releasing the neck of her outfit had been yanked at violently revealing the lace looking tattoo, no longer black. Instead, blue like before, all vein-coloured.

Trailing further behind the uniformed cleavage he carefully tried not to linger on. Though, he was curious about how much of her body had those little tattoos.

The rise and fall of the chest were steady... again, Ayla was perfectly normal.

Not a thing wrong.

The Doctor would have to ask her about her miraculous healing abilities when she woke up, but for now, he would let her rest. The snores now ended with a little sigh, so she needed it.

Also, he was late for a party.

Spinning on his heel, and tilting his hat, the Doctor attempted to click his shoes together. His leg bowed instead, and he stumbled a little.

The Doctor didn’t expect to hear that strange Australian accent pinning him to the spot when he was trying to stand straight.


	5. New Rules

“What time is it?” Ayla grumbled sniffing for the familiar petrichor scent.

There was just blood.

Her last few minutes rushed back like a bad dream and she sat up. Each, and every one of her bones popping as she stretched. Planting both feet Ayla moved her body fluidly, testing for any aches and pains. There were many aches, but no longer any pain.

Ayla really wanted to go work those out.

Wanted to find out exactly when these experiments no longer worked. Again, those were thoughts for another time.

The familiar wheezing of the Tardis was slowing down. So Ayla instead pointed to the console - where the cane she had procured for the Doctor laid forgotten. The Doctor blinked at her in response. Slowly looking towards the console and snapped his head back to her. Mouth flopping open with a gargle of singular questions exiting.

Ayla didn’t try and translate what the Doctor was attempting to say. Scooping up the cane she tossed it over to him. The Doctor, to his credit, caught it finally managing to get his reply out, “Come along now. We’ve got a party to attend.”

That slanted smile was back, and now that Ayla was staring she wondered if his lips were thin or just tight with pain. Only to shake her head and follow him muttering, “I have never even been to a party before.”

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” the Doctor whispered conspiratorially, wheezing towards the end. “Now I’ve got to ask you to stay back Ayla, lots of things happening. May get messy. May die.”

He bent his neck towards her, and Ayla inched only her head away from him. Mouth tilting at the weird man antics.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” she inquired.

“Does it?”

Ayla shook her head in annoyance. “Don’t you have this River person to save?”

With another wave of emotions, the Doctor was out the door like he had never even been in the console room and Ayla could hear his voice on the other side. Loud as day, if a bit muffled.

“Sorry, did you say she killed the Doctor? The Doctor? Doctor who?”

Ayla paused for a moment, eager to exit the Tardis but this whole ‘death’ and ‘poison’ thing. It didn’t take a genius for Ayla to piece the information together; River Song poisoned the Doctor. Ayla nodded to herself wondering how a man so bouncy was still enough to be poisoned by a tree.

Instead, she opened the door to the Tardis and stuck the top half of her face out to hear a flurry of replies. From this position, she saw nothing but the back of the Doctor. Her eyes slid downwards at the tails of his coat, and she sniggered.

They were flicking around him like they were alive. Ayla didn’t notice she’d stepped outside to follow the tails until she heard a foreign voice.

“You’re dying and you stopped to change?” the foreign voice asked.

The information Rory had taught her of Earth came filtering in; British. Female.

“Oh, you should always waste time when you don’t have any,” he was walking forwards and Ayla decided she didn’t want her presence known. Using the Doctor’s speech as a distraction to duck around the side of the Tardis, “Time is not the boss of you. Rule four hundred and eight. Amelia Pond, judgement death machine. Why am I not surprised?”

That piece of information piqued Ayla’s interest and she ducked her head around to look.

“Sonic cane,” the Doctor informed the air.

Ayla ignored him and was treated with another human. A rather glamourous looking woman with a mane of golden curled hair. Ayla could count her number of human interactions on a single hand so she didn’t have much to go on, but… she could interpret features.

It was the only way to know friend from foe where Ayla was from.

The brow of the woman seemed noble, and the gaze the woman pinned the Doctor beamed with intelligence. Ayla wondered if she was River Song.

“Are you serious?” the woman asked the Doctor.

 _Wonder if she would show me how to use tree poison_ , Ayla wondered to herself.

Gazing towards where Amelia should have stood, only the copper hair was visible from Ayla’s position, the rest blocked by the broad shoulders of Doctor limpy.

“Never knowingly,” he was saying, “never knowingly be serious. Rule twenty-seven.”

Ayla watched the profile of the Doctor glance across to the woman as he continued.

“You might want to write these down,” he informed her before announcing, “Oh, it’s a robot. With four hundred and twenty-three life signs. A robot worked by tiny people. Love it. But how do you all get in there though?”

Ayla could have answered that for him. Many species used technologies like it. _Miniaturisation with a compression field, **duh**_.

The woman from before was following the Doctor’s mad pitch like it was nothing and Ayla decided that yes, this woman was indeed River Song.

“Oooh,” the Doctor breathed, “watch what you eat, it’ll get you every time. Amy, if you and Rory are okay, signal me.”

Even Ayla could see the top of the cane she had selected glowing, the annoying sounds she knew to be sonic whining in her ear. Luckily the Doctor stopped the sound rather quickly replying with, “Thanking you.”

The Doctor was trying to walk forwards, cane swinging too late to be of any use, and his long useless leg slipped out from beneath him.

Ayla was mildly entertained, but mostly concerned when she heard his **_argh_** of pain.

“So sorry, leg went to sleep. Just had a quick left leg power nap. I forgot I had one scheduled,” Ayla tried to warn him that his other leg was going, but the Doctor never stopped speaking over Ayla’s quick whistle, “Actually, better sit down. I think I heard the right one yawning.”

The whistle seemed to jolt River from her inaction, and Ayla watched as the poor woman was hit with an energy beam mid-run.

Bright painful yellow light like a bubble and Ayla was angry.

 _Never hit someone with their back turned_ , Ayla grumbled angrily to herself, _rule one of entertainment class. Entertain._

Ayla heard the Doctor’s fury as he shouted, “Don’t you touch her. Don’t harm her in any way!”

 _So we are protecting this River even though she poisoned the Doctor with a tree_ , Ayla narrowed her eyes trying to piece information together, _No worries Doc._

Ayla was confident this time, _and_ she is of the Entertainment class.

Ayla knew the rule.


	6. Help

Ayla felt the familiar hum of excited adrenaline as confidence filled her. It had been such a long time since she had needed to use the skills of the Entertainment class.

In reality, the whole Entertainment name was just a guise the Captains gave any species they experimented on. Entertainment is subjective after all, a lesson that Ayla was still reluctant to agree too.

There were just some things she had to do, some things that no living creature should ever be confronted with. She was just lucky her latest Captain liked its pets well versed in many subjects.

Infiltration was one of them, not so lucky for them considering her escape.

And death via black hole, her brain was quick to remind her.

Ayla scoffed at that reminder. Quickly winding her hair around itself, tucking in the ends and successfully tying the mane out of the way.

All the while, she surveyed the room; whatever luxury was lost on Ayla. Tables and their white cloth tangled together and thrown haphazardly throughout the room.

Chairs like landmines toppled and forgotten about.

Ayla found that thought entertaining, likening herself briefly to one of the fallen chairs. My comrade, she decided lightly, I shall avenge you.

If she were hoping for a clear path? One she could sneak down without being noticed - there wasn't one. Because things were never easy when accompanying the Doctor. The only path involved being the centre of attention and Ayla didn’t like that from a tactical position.

Patting down her uniform she vaguely remembered stashing her guardian’s shield emitter in one of the smaller internal pockets before her escape.

Little box looking thing, totally boring to the naked eye but with a few minor adjustments, she could go full stealth mode instead.

Ayla preferred that idea; Strike fast, not hard. Her patting was rewarded with a hard bump against her right hip, within the lining of the uniform.

Perfect, she grinned briefly closing her eyes to push into the device. She could feel the warm green glow of the device, familiar with the protocol only through reading.

Somewhere beyond her focus, she could still hear the conversation of the Doctor. And Amy, though her voice didn’t have the same rhythm to it Ayla was used to.

“Why would you care? She’s the woman who kills you,” the emotionless Amy announced.

“I’m not dead,” the Doctor replied flippantly.

“You’re dying,” Amy refuted.

“Well, at least I’m not a time-travelling shape-shifting robot operated by miniaturised cross people, which, I have got to admit, I didn’t see coming. What do you want with her?”

“She’s Melody Pond,” Amy replied, “according to records, the woman who kills the Doctor.”

Ayla didn’t have the thought capacity to explore the name Melody Pond, and so stored it away for later. She was only part way done with the modification and could feel sweat pooling at her temples.

“And I’m the Doctor. What’s it to you?”

Ayla sniggered again at that, concentration lapsing for a second causing a slight spark to zap at her fingertips.

Focus, she reprimanded herself.

“Throughout history, many criminals have gone unpunished in their lifetimes. Time travel has responsibilities.”

“What?” the Doctor scoffed, “You got yourselves time travel, so you decided to punish dead people.”

That was a punishment system Ayla didn’t want to think about, but time-travel was still new to her and confusing.

And she was wasting too much time already.

Ayla needed to push their conversation to the furthest part of her mind. Their voices too interesting to continue to multitask.

Feeling the various layers of subroutines she found the main routine she needed and began the manipulation. She wasn’t sure how long she wasn’t paying attention. So when Ayla glanced down at the glowing blue device? There was a huff of relief as she immediately attached it to her body.

One use, she reminded herself.

Knowing the device would likely be overwhelmed with the old and new processes fighting each other, it likely wouldn’t be something to repeat.

A cool wash of hit her body like there was a soft curtain sitting on top of Ayla's skin.

She couldn't see her nose or hands, so with that very limited test, Ayla assumed it had worked.

Well, hoped.

"Oh. Well," the Doctor was grumbling, "A fat lot of use that is, you big ginge. Call yourself a Records-"

He was cut off by his shout of agony and that familiar jolt of worry hit Ayla.

"Kidneys are always the first to quit. I've had better, you know," somehow his voice was still lighthearted.

He wasn't worried, not really or at least not trying to let others worry for him. Ayla stepped out from behind the Tardis in the full view of all three eyes.

River was too busy holding in her yellow hell bubble to focus, the Doctor and the overly still Amy were still going at it.

Ayla picked a route that allowed her some distance and circled to flank Amy. Eyes flickering over the figure for any weaknesses.

She wondered if she could just jolt the robot Amy with energy to spark a restart. Ayla was not the fastest with reprogramming, but force? That she could do.

Ayla watched the beam around River turn red, her screams hitting a new pitch.

Ayla could almost hear the poor woman's real cries beyond the screams;

It hurts so much.

Let me die.

Let me die.

Well, Ayla wasn't going to let that happen.

"What do we do? This is me, this is me talking," Amy was pleading desperately despite the robot version of her not moving.

The Doctor was equally desperate.

"Just stop them," he demanded, "She's your daughter. Just stop them."

The information hit Ayla in the back of her head; Amy and Rory had a kid? This River Song, Melody Pond was her. Just like Amy the woman had two names. Ayla liked Rory though, and by extension, Ayla would help River out of this.

And entertain herself for a change.

With a calming breath to centre her thoughts, a blank feeling washed over Ayla and for the first time in ages she ran.

Ayla felt her right hand close around Amy's slight neck. It was most certainly not human. Ayla knew that much already, she could feel the vibrations of the machine. It was absorbing the force, but Ayla was of the Entertainment class.

She has always been thrown into the deep end, and she always survived. With a sweeping motion, Ayla slid her leg behind the robotic Amy, feeling the machine topple backwards.

Ayla took the opportunity to wipe her left wrist against the tip of her nose. The burn of angry blood filling that left hand with raw energy.

"Night," Ayla whispered into Amy's ear as she punched Amy's sternum with a forceful jab.

Ayla threw her whole body into it and pushed the power out of her hand into Amy with a single thought, shut down.

Luckily it did. The body somehow regaining it's posture Unluckily Ayla's left hand wasn't much of a hand anymore and belated pain shot up through the injured limb.

Glancing down she noticed the emitter was still working, Ayla was ghosting still. Cool.

She would need to heal her hand at some point, but later. Glancing back at the woman Ayla had released from the red beam, she noticed the Doctor already pleading with the poor woman.

"River, please."

"Again? Who is this River? She's got to be a woman. am I right?" the reply was quick, eerily like the Doctor.

Ayla tried to piece the haphazard information together, feeling a headache beginning to form. River was still Melody at this point, and the Doctor was changing her name?

"Help me. Save Amy and Rory. Help me."

Glancing across at the oddly still robot woman Ayla wanted to punch herself. She needed to get them out, probably before she fried her left hand.

Regret filled her.

"Tell me about her," River folded her arms feet planted, "Go on."

Ayla shook her head stalking her way over to the woman as the Doctor wheezed, "Just help me."

If Ayla wanted anything to get done, she was going to need to intervene. Because it certainly seemed like the Doctor was a man of many words, and so was this River person.

Ayla liked the action, so, she leant into River's ear, keeping that bubble of personal space Ayla loved so much.

"Go to the Tardis."

It surprised Ayla when a rod seemed to shoot down River's back and those bright intelligent eyes swung to look for Ayla.

They couldn't see her, and Ayla whispered with more urgency. "You need to move, now."


	7. Flight

Ayla expected River to walk to the Tardis like it was nothing. She did not expect the woman to remain planted to the floor like an obstinate bull. Ayla huffed air out of her mouth angrily which had the awkward moment of hitting River.

Stalking past her, Ayla purposely bumped her shoulder against the other woman. Glad for the thick uniform, but still creeped out by the pins that tickled across her shoulders.

Humans felt weird, Ayla noted continuing on her way past the Doctor she paused long enough to murmur, "This party sucks."

If the Doctor reacted, it was soon replaced by pain as River finally decided to move. Almost purposefully following the trail Ayla left behind.

With a glance at the blue emitter, Ayla had only seen her hand during the fight. She was back to being see-through, there was no way River could see her.

With a shrug, Ayla walked headfirst into the Tardis door, letting out a single tone of wood being knocked.

Ayla felt her hair fall out of its prison at the action and rested her forehead against the bright blue box. The vibrations still seemed annoyed, and Ayla almost whimpered into the wood.

"No more petrichor for me today?" Ayla murmured sadly, pitched like a question and the door pushed itself further against Ayla's face. Squashing her nose painfully.

The door opened, lovely.

Ayla sniffled as she swung the door wider, ensuring River paid attention to Ayla's theatrics. Luckily she was, and before either woman knew.

They were inside the Tardis, with Ayla's emitter dropping to the glass floor with dismal _tings_ as it bounced.

Normally Ayla would have had her back straight, ready to avoid everything. But she was just glad to be allowed back inside and met the gaze of River calmly.

"Are you her?" River's voice was wavering, and Ayla recognised the pitch.

Fear.

"Who?" Ayla queried, spying the railings of the Tardis. She briefly wondered if the Tardis would let her perch there, but with all the action, Ayla didn't want to push it. The vibrations were still angry, just beyond the normal hum.

Ayla could feel that.

"The Tardis," River clarified, a look of hope passing through those expressive eyes. Ayla felt a pang of sadness in her stomach.

She could pretend to be the Tardis, but she had already annoyed the ship too much by this point.

"Nope, just a pet," Ayla shrugged. "Ayla, by the way, Entertainment Class."

River only frowned. "But, you told me to come here."

Ayla nodded, pointing to the controls. "Think that's where you stand."

"For what?" the sass was starting to come out and Ayla fought to keep the grin down as River rambled, "What exactly am I meant to do here? How do I get to Amy and Rory? What _is_ all this?"

Ayla stared at River as if she had just burped the alphabet (Amy had, so it wasn't hard to imagine). In no way, shape or form was Ayla the Doctor.

"The Tardis is a vessel," Ayla pointed out slowly, "Fly it."

"But how?" River whined approaching the control with all the fear of a small child. Ayla wanted to help, but she didn't want to risk her hand again.

With a glance down, the purple-black bruising warped over the entirety of the limb. With a little attempt to flex the knuckles Ayla still had _some_ movement. Despite the tears that attempted to fall as her ears picked up the gross crunching of bones.

_Too much power_ , Ayla chided herself and slunk towards River. Ensuring the buffer of air she liked, stayed stranger free.

"Touch the controls," Ayla instructed.

"Which?"

"Any," Ayla shrugged, "Doctor probably doesn't know. I'm going to try and see if we can wake the Tardis up."

River stared at her. "But it's on right? Already."

Ayla nodded. "Sure, sure. But I went flying through the roof not that long ago. So better safe than sorry?"

To Ayla's surprise, River laughed. Ayla had no idea what she was doing. She just hoped everything turned out better than being flung across the floor.

"Right, okay. Ayla, was it? Melody Pond. Let's go save my parents."

Ayla laughed. Full-on felt the air leave her lungs, and get sucked back in only to repeat the action.

_This_ , was what feeling happy was.

"Sounds good," Ayla watched River (Melody) approach a strange windy looking tool, glancing across back with a nod.

"Ready when you are," she shouted.

Ayla had one shot and hoped desperately that the Tardis wouldn't fling her out again.

Finding that same sleek part of copper, Ayla placed the mangled left palm against it. Felt zapping hums and pushed past it all.

She wasn't looking for a subroutine this time, nor was she looking to do anything. Ayla just pleaded into the void of code so vast; _We need you. Help us._

She didn't expect a reply, but she felt that warm humming vibration from the very beginning. The one that reminded her of a hug, and the _serenity_ that passed over Ayla.

She was vaguely aware of River whooping around her shouting to the Tardis thanking Ayla for whatever she did.

"She's teaching me," the voice was faint and Ayla wanted to stay where she was forever, "I'm **flying**."

All at once, a familiar wheezing vibration of the landing was felt, almost silent by comparison of the Doctor. And Ayla's trip to serenity was shattered.

She staggered back to the railings, vaguely aware of River's voice outside the Tardis.

She almost missed Amy racing to her and guiding her to the chair. Whispering into Ayla's ear, "Thank you so much for stopping it."

Or Rory draping a blanket around her, commenting softly about her rapidly falling temperature. Ayla just wanted to go back to that peace away from everything.

And so, while River, Rory and Amy Pond continued on their journey to rescue the Doctor.

Ayla slumped out of the creepy cushion chair - seeking only one room to hide in.

The one that smelt of petrichor, but her heartfelt so soft in her chest.

Her limbs too heavy, and Ayla eventually crumpled in the middle of a random hallway, surrounded by the hum of the Tardis.

Soft snores angrily whispering of pain and discomfort.


	8. Escape Room

Amy, Rory and the Doctor entered the Tardis in a mix of emotions. Relief, confusion and anger.

"So that's it," Amy peppered the Doctor's back with her question, "we leave her there?"

"Sisters of the Infinite Schism. Greatest hospital in the universe," he replied airily.

"Yeah, but she's our daughter," Amy argued, "Doctor, she's River and she's our daughter."

There was a sigh and saggy shoulders from the Doctor before he centred himself. Turning to look at the lovely copper-haired woman.

"Amy, I know," the look he gave Amy stopped her approach. Pinning her to the spot as he continued, "But we have to let her make her own way now. We have too much foreknowledge."

Amy folded her arms, brows furrowing slightly. She wanted to push the Doctor, this is her daughter. Her daughter was taken away from her, shouldn't there be something else they could do?

The Doctor returned to his console repeating to himself, "Dangerous thing, foreknowledge.

Amy noticed information on one of the scanners and approached it asking, "what's that?"

It was rather magical, the way he swung his arm, Rory thought, as the Doctor turned the scanner off a blank look covering his features.

"Nothing," the Doctor shrugged, "Just some data I downloaded from the Teselecta. Very borning."

Rory didn't need to look at his wife to know Amy was ready to go with a hundred more questions. Rather than sit back and let them talk until they were blue in the face, Rory decided to intervene.

"Doctor," he called out. The Doctor spun to him like Rory had appeared out of nowhere and Rory frowned as he continued, "River was brainwashed to kill you, right?"

The posture of the Doctor changed. Standing more upright, frowning.

"Well, she did kill me," the Doctor shrugged, "And then she used her remaining lives to bring me back. As first dates go, I'd say that was mixed signals."

"But that stuff that they put in her head, is that gone now? The River that we know in the future, she is in prison for murder," Rory prompted, like that would help get the information he wanted out of the Doctor.

"Whose murder?" Amy interrupted again, "Will we see her again?"

The Doctor understood the needless questions, because to them, their daughter is an important part of their life. Important to you, a small part of him was reminded.

"Oh, she'll come looking for us," he shrugged as if that answered everything. For him, it did.

"Yeah, but how?" Amy urged, irritation at the Doctor easy to hear, "How do people even look for you?"

A small, sad look passed over his features. "Oh, Pond. Haven't you figured that one out yet?"

Amy's mouth opened a few times to reply when she thought better of it. Grabbing Rory by the crook of the elbow, she marched them out of the console room.

They had barely made it out when Rory sprinted away from her. "So much running," Amy muttered to herself as she gave chase.

Amy halted when she saw Rory hovering over Ayla, blinking rapidly as she remembered seeing her on the Teselecta viewscreen. Ayla had been there for only a second, long enough for a distraction. Enough to free Melody (River) to get free. Long enough for Amy and Rory to get to the Doctor.

And they had just forgotten about her.

Amy wanted to kick herself, they were just at the hospital, they could go back.

"I'll get the Doctor," Amy told Rory hastily.

Rory nodded at her, pushing apart the mane of phoenix coloured hair. Ayla looked horrible, skin slick with sweat, eyes flickering behind tightly closed lids and her body. He could feel the vibrations of her body shaking from the little buffer he tried to keep.

"Ayla," Rory whispered, hoping it would wake her, "C'mon girl, open your eyes."

By this point, Amy was arguing for the Doctor's help again. Sometimes she wondered just how much the Doctor listened to others.

"She's passed out," Amy was saying, "and we were just at the hospital."

The Doctor nodded, half-listening. Mainly trying to get his calculations right. They were visiting a new gas cloud formation. Space, always changing. Ever so exciting. Great backdrop for conversations.

"Doctor," Amy growled thumping his arm aggressively.

He blinked across to the woman.

"What?" he whined, rubbing his shoulder absentmindedly.

"Ayla," Amy repeated for effect. The Doctor nodded to go on, "She's in the hallway."

"Yes, and?" he asked nodding over Amy's every word.

"She's passed out in the hallway," Amy grumbled.

"Oh," the Doctor blinked as he processes that information. "Oh, we help that?"

Amy gawked at him. "You aren't going to help?"

"What?" the Doctor shook his head as the pieces fell together, "No. I mean, yes. We, Amy. We" -his finger flung between the two of them - "help that. Take me to her."

"Like I wasn't going to," Amy shook her head in annoyance, the Doctor was just in a mood today.

"No," the Doctor knew Amy was mad and desperately wanted to fix it, "I know you'll show me. I just..."

Amy gestured over her shoulder.

"Walk and talk," the pointed look she gave jolted the Doctor into action.

"The Tardis has been keeping us apart," the Doctor whispered with a glance about his ship.

"What, like you're Romeo and she's Juliet or something," the dismissing look she gave the Doctor was only supported when they entered the same hallway Rory was supposed to be in. "Where is he?"

The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet, hands gesturing the universal sign for - see.

"Not funny Doctor," Amy grumbled, "she didn't look great. Rory's with her, and we were at the greatest hospital in the universe."

The Doctor gaped in reply at that. He had forgotten, he just assumed with the blue hand thing.

But foreknowledge was a dangerous thing, and this just proved his point.

Amy pulled her phone, dialling her husband instantly.

"Amy," Rory's voice never failed to have that deep tone of comfort even when giving her bad news, "where are you guys?"

"I'm standing in the same hallway with the Doctor," Amy spun on the spot, "Can't see you or Ayla anywhere."

"Are you sure? I haven't moved her yet, she's cold though. I may have to."

Amy threw her phone to the Doctor with a quick, "Go on Shakespeare."

The Doctor was ready to retort to that but focused on Rory. "Take her to the Library," the Doctor urged, "big fireplace. Warm her up. Lots of tea."

There was a pause. The sound of Rory apologising to Ayla for invading her personal space. When he spoke through the phone, his voice was dark.

"Doctor, be quick," Rory was saying, "these shakes are intense."

The Doctor rubbed his brow in frustration. "Yeah, okay."

"Doctor," Rory repeated softly, "she's going blue."

"Tardis blue or vein blue?" the Doctor asked quickly. Rory didn't answer, and the call ended.

The Doctor cast a look to Amy in annoyance. Blue is an important colour to know the shade of, how was it his fault Rory or Amy didn't know that.

"So, the Tardis doesn't want you guys together," Amy repeated sarcastically, blankly staring at him, "so how do we get her help?"

"Good question," the Doctor replied with a cheeky smile, "You know those escape rooms they do for team building exercises?"

Amy shook her head at his antics, "No."

"Well, they have those. Escape rooms. The Tardis has been making rooms all this time to keep us apart," the Doctor shrugged, "Ayla needs warmth, so the library is the best place for her."

Amy nodded like she even knew where the Doctor was going with his tirade.

"Now, if I go to the Library the Tardis will just put something in my way," he slid closer to Amy suddenly, whispering, "let's go ice skating."

Amy blinked at him.

Closed her eyes.

Then, she smiled. Removing the brown leather jacket that kept her nice and toasty. Watching the Doctor remove his outer layers, bounding through the hallway like he knew where he was going.

The Doctor certainly had a weird way of problem-solving but she would have her madman no other way.

"You raggedy man," Amy called.

"At your service, Pond!" he shouted with a jaunty wave.


	9. Four Seasons

Rory paced nervously behind Ayla. He’d done a basic check, she was definitely just asleep - but the pale blue tinge and the sheen of sweat that covered her. Rory had attempted to swaddle Ayla on the couch closest to the fire. Even in her sleep, Ayla was adamant to stay away from the couch. Rolling out of it instantly, constant moans as she only tangled her limbs in the blanket. In many ways, Ayla acted like a kid sister but moments like this worried him. In shifting and moving her, he had seen the blackened left hand, the discolouration only getting worse by the minute. A few bruises were forming around her face and Rory had tried to feel for a pulse. Stable, but faint. As much as he hated to admit it, Rory needed the Doctor with all his ego to just make sure Ayla would be okay.

The way he forgot the young woman made Rory feel slightly ill. A wet cough had Rory by Ayla’s side again, tightening the blanket wrapped around her and dapping the sweat. If her lips went too dry, he would drip water against them, watching intently as Ayla responded by licking her lips. He sighed heavily, suddenly more tired than ever and sat in the couch above her gazing wantonly at the fire.

Rory didn’t know much about Ayla, he hadn’t even asked her a question about herself. Too eager in his job to educate her on Earth and bright Ayla, sarcastic Ayla… she was the perfect student. Even talking to Amy, despite the two seeming to rarely interact - Ayla never drew much attention to herself.

Why are you like that, Rory wondered sadly - only to watch the Doctor and Amy burst into the Library. The Doctor looked rather frosty, strange oddments of plants attached to him, Amy - apart from wet, seemed fine. She rushed to Rory, who had another blanket ready to go.

“What happened?” Rory half-shouted as they made themselves at home in the Library. The Doctor by the fire, warming himself. He wrapped Amy tightly in the blanket rubbing her arms and repeated the question.

“Let’s go ice skating you say,” Amy grumbled at the Doctor, leaning into Rory’s chest, so warm.

The Doctor looked like he got an electric shock as he turned his back to the fire, water dripping from his nose.

“I had to fool you,” he explained lightly, plucking plant debris off like it was a normal daily task, “tried to fool the TARDIS, but think she caught wind.”

“You don’t say,” Amy rolled her eyes, muttering to Rory, “had us back in the console room, does his dance around and next thing I know we’re running through the Tardis.”

“Had to be quick,” the Doctor waggled his finger for emphasis, turning around like he was on a spit-fire. Even Rory rolled his eyes as the Doctor began to shed his outer layers.

“Doctor,” Rory warned, holding a pillow firmly in place of Amy’s sight, “Modesty, yeah?”

The rapid blink from the Doctor as he realised, and the responding thumbs up. All the while Amy fought for the pillow grumbling, “I didn’t expect you to take us on a bloody escape run through every dangerous room the Tardis has.”

“Oh c’mon Pond,” the Doctor whined, gesturing to Rory asking if the blanked covered waist was okay. At the lowering of the pillow, the Doctor continued; “It wasn’t dangerous. Just like the four seasons. As in the planet, not the hotel. A boring hotel that, four seasons don’t even experience one.”

“That’s the point,” Amy snapped, “You experience the damn seasons from the comfort of inside the hotel.”

The look of offence that struck the Doctor, had Rory sitting back ready to see where this was going.

“You were protected,” he muttered, “don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“He had me in a bubble,” Amy growled to Rory. Rory knew better than to respond, nodding is head, brow furrowing in sympathetic annoyance. To the Doctor, he mouthed, Why?

“The Tardis is keeping me away from her, not you two,” the Doctor had his sonic out scanning Ayla. Other hand gesturing at Amy and Rory like the limb had a mind of its own. The woman moaned a little more as the Doctor continued speaking, “Had to trick the Tardis into letting me warm up by the fire. Didn’t think she’d drop us in the pool, should have known.”

“But why,” Rory asked, “if the Tardis chose to be stolen by you, and then saved Ayla from what, a black hole? Why would she keep you apart?”

“Good question,” the Doctor glanced up at the couple and not for the first time. Ayla spoke.

“Isn’t there a quiet setting on that thing?” the green eyes narrowed at the Doctor in annoyance before noticing his human companions. There was a smile that crossed Ayla’s face, Rory knew she had been practising, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey?”

“Ayla,” the Doctor’s voice was softer than she had ever heard it before, and she had difficulty finding the face. Her eyes kept crossing, wanting more sleep, and that angry vibration was back. “Ayla, focus. Focus on me,” the Doctor’s voice was still low and it was so very melodic she could listen forever.

“What?” she asked, blinking lazily at him.

“Why aren’t you healing yourself?” the Doctor asked, and the blank look had him brush some of the sweaty hair from the temple. “I know you have been,” he continued the contact against her hair, seeming to keep her grounded for the moment, “why aren’t you now?”

Amy mouthed to Rory at the new revelation and he shook his head in reply. Watching as Ayla wiggled free from his wrangling of her, presenting the left hand that continued to grow darker.

“S’not that bad,” Ayla replied blearily blinking at the room. “Why waste energy if the problem is fixed?”

“Fixed?’ the Doctor asked, gently forcing her chin down and capturing her gaze again, “Fixed what Ayla?”

“River,” Ayla replied allowing her left arm to flop listlessly to her side. Everyone but her winced at the sound instead asking, “It was fixed, yeah?”

Only the Doctor could reply, the kindness in his voice as he spoke, “Yes, Ayla. Thank you for helping,” his thumb was stroking Ayla’s jaw feeling the strange smoothness marred and the Doctor had so many questions to ask her, “Your hand is broken.”

“Figured,” Ayla replied, “Think the Tardis doesn’t like having me in the subroutines.”

There was a moment of confusion, and then of rage, but Ayla wasn’t done speaking.

“Let me help River fly her though,” Ayla was holding her hand up blinking at the offending limb, “a bit hard to see the implant right now though, so need to wait for a little.”

There seemed to be a sudden moment of clarity for Ayla as the green eyes pinned the Doctor. Wrestling her jaw free from his grip she whispered, “Why is my mother in your subroutines?”

And just like that, Ayla was out. Again. The Doctor was frozen by that, she had been inside the Tardis. Why was her mother in the Tardis? What did that even mean; he didn’t have that close of a connection to be able to do that. Nor the skills, though he was sure if he tired, that wasn’t the point. She had seen things. He stood upright breathing faster.

Her question repeating in his head like a ghost.

Why is my mother in your subroutines?


	10. Cryptic Message

The Doctor was beside himself at the moment. Desperately trying to understand Ayla’s question and how to begin answering it. She had been inside the TARDIS in a way the Doctor had yet to explore.

So, how does he find a metaphorical needle in a gigantic computer mainframe haystack?

_Talk it out Doc_ , he reminded himself, _don’t get lost again._

“I need, I need, I need… oh, what is it I need? The question is wrong. Need? No. How to? Maybe. Find? Closer. Search the - yes. And the library, perfect!” the Doctor spun around his wet hair flinging droplets at Rory and Amy, laughing.

Their shouts of disgust brought his attention to them, excitement clear on his face.

“Amy, need you to get Ayla some new clothes. The uniform is just, it’s dreadful, and I tried but she just. Well, she’s out - so the best way to do a swap,” the Doctor moved past her to Rory. “You,” he murmured secretly, “I need my portable screen, yes, you know the one. A big important one. Just pop it right out the dock and straight back here.” The Doctor stalked off towards the stacks of books, only to spin and return to Rory desperately, “Also there’s a medicine kit you should bring.”

“We have one and you didn’t bring it?” Rory stuttered the question in horror.

“Forgot,” the Doctor shrugged and noticing Amy was still here, shooed her, “Off you pop, Pond. Quick trip. Sort yourself out too maybe. Oh, and me. Almost forgot that _ha_. Don’t want to make another wrong first impression.”

The doctor swung back and forth on the

“Why am I getting clothes?’ Amy folded her arms, content to stay put, “Not you?”

The Doctor sighed, getting on his knees treating Amy to the tightly formed muscles of his torso. She stared at them in appreciation before his voice brought her annoyance back, “Amy, I can’t leave her. If I do, the Tardis changes again. This is _important_.”

“Yea but-” Amy muttered only for the Doctor to cut her off.

“She saved River. Amelia, she saved Melody Pond. Taught her to fly my most prized possession, that is who we’re helping… remember that,” the Doctor whispered to her, desperately, “We shouldn’t have left her alone all this time. It’s my fault, and if her _mother_ is **trapped** in the Tardis…”

There was a moment of silence.

“What makes you think her mother isn’t the one trying to keep us apart?”

Amy blinked at that, in sudden understanding. _No one was going to stand in the way of a mother and their child._

“Alright Doctor,” she replied, “I’m going. But we’ll be able to get back right?”

“Have you ever had problems finding her before?” he asked instead of answering.

“No,” Rory replied as Amy answered, “Never looked for her.”

Another wave of silence before Rory coughed, “I’ll come with you Aims, easy. See you in a bit, Doctor.”

The Doctor rested his hands on his hips, fingertips absentmindedly playing with the fabric of the blanket. Huffing in annoyance at himself before speaking to Ayla as if she were awake, “Sorry about this Ayla. Didn’t think that…” he sighed again, approaching the girl and dragging a standing light with him, “I guess that’s the problem isn’t it, girls. I haven’t been thinking much lately.”

He was speaking to his Tardis now as if he needed permission from his ship to help their chosen guest.

“I think if I can get a light strong enough,” he was explaining, groaning as he sat down by the snoring Ayla, “I may be able to boost along with the healing thingy.”

Positioning the floor light laying down, he used his fingers to tear a directional light into the shade. Then, with his sonic, he pulled his head out of the lampshade and turned the light wattage all the way up. Ensuring the glass maintained integrity with the new heat, the last thing he needed was to impale Ayla with glass.

He’d have the Tardis try and get him back. He thought that was possibly a Tardis response. The pear-painting Ayla interacted with. Possibly hoping to get her out of the way, stop Ayla from interacting with him for some time?

“Every theory just has more questions,” the Doctor murmured, removing his blanket to better maneuver around Ayla. Gingerly lifting her injured hand, the black and blue bruises easing their way up the elbow. The Doctor understood what Ayla was talking about, the inky tattoos were virtually nonexistent.

But, he had a clear view of how that healing palm had worked before. The tattoos turned blue, he saw that. They looked like veins, and he was sure if he could find the right ones, they would feel like them too. He placed the limb over the hole in the lampshade, and like a strange red egg, Ayla’s wrist lit up in an array of veins. More than he had seen in any human. Some looked artificial, wrapping around the arteries and the Doctor only had more questions.

With an unsteady gulp, he lifted his sonic to the wrist, glancing sadly across to Ayla he whispered, “This is going to annoy you, sorry.”

With the green tip of his sonic not yet activated, he began the hunt to find the tattoo pattern, before gently pressing against the skin. A muffled groan exited from Ayla, those eyes flickering angrily even in sleep.

The Doctor pressed the sonic quickly, enough for the tattoo he had found to flicker in that similar blue colour he’d found before. Dropping the sonic he pressing his index finger against the line, chasing the blue light. As if his finger were a cat.

It took the Doctor a moment to recognise his finger happened to be tracing a rather intense version of the tree of life. Each vein a new branch, his finger often crossing back on itself as the tattoo discoloured. Lifting the wrist carefully, grimacing at each groan of pain Ayla made, the Doctor was rewarded for his efforts. The dismal hand colouring darkly in what had to be the blue vein magic.

He didn’t expect Ayla to wake up in a scream. Clutching at her wrist as if she could remove it by ripping. But the Doctor understood why even he could hear the individual tissue being corrected. The imperfections of the hand **had** been numerous.

And Ayla was blind with pain, and the Doctor was responsible. Again.


	11. The Doctor's Wife

He easily broke her death grip on the wrist, pulling her left arm free. Forcing her sweating form into his chest with his free arm. The Doctor shivered as her tears made contact with his skin, and he belatedly realised he had no clothes on. But he rocked Ayla again, listening all the while as the hand popped and crackled louder than the fire.

Face grimacing at the particularly nasty ones. Ayla didn’t fight him.

He was glad for that.

Ayla was somewhere between dreams and waking, too tired to fight back the shouts of pain. Burying her face into the chest that beat in both ears, a different pace each one. Only the voice he recognised as the Doctor sounded different. Melodic, and the comfort she felt even among the shifting bones of her left hand… it was enough to know she was safe, that she could rest.

She didn’t want to though, and the idea of closing her eyes again was terrifying. She whimpered.

“Shush, Ayla,” the Doctor murmured into the garnet roots, he could see single strands of white hair wondering how old she was, “I traced that tattoo. I’m sorry, I knew it would help but I didn’t know it would hurt. I’m sorry.”

His rocking increased, and Ayla couldn’t fight the sleep back, but she didn’t want to be in the library. She wanted to be safe.

“Can we go back to the grass room now?” she whispered, gritting her teeth, “Back to the petrichor?”

The Doctor had no idea what she was talking about, but it didn’t matter right now.

“Of course,” he replied. He looked up in time to see Rory and Amy entering. The Doctor acted, quickly, scooping Ayla into his arms careful to keep the left arm free from swinging wildly. Luckily for him, part of Ayla’s blanked covered his most important parts. The Doctor was getting out of a Rory lecture, perfect.

“Rory,” the Doctor whisper-shouts, “Take us to Ayla’s room.”

Amy rolled her eyes, not even bothering to wonder what was going on. The Doctor always told them. She hiked the pile of clothing she held and turned to Rory, “C’mon then show us the way.”

Rory really didn’t expect to be the only one to know, but he felt better that out of everyone… Rory had the knowledge, but he had only caught glimpses inside. This time, when the door opened, everyone was greeted to the room the Tardis had made for Ayla.

Long grass, with afternoon sun and the smell of petrichor. The room was large, but it seemed to go on forever.

“What is this?” Amy whispered, “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor’s face was alight with fascination. This place was so peaceful, “Could run through the fields for years. We have time, not that much time. But a little. We can explore.”

“We do?” Rory asked and the Doctor nodded emphatically.

“After we get clothed, fed, watered, all that stuff. After Ayla wakes up and we find her mother,” the Doctor explained easily, walking forwards treating the couple to his bare arse.

Rory groaned, attempting to cover Amy’s eyes but it was useless, “Amy, please.”

“What,” Amy blinked at Rory innocently, “I was making sure he didn’t drop her. C’mon, you.”

Apparently the Doctor assumed they had followed because, by the time they caught up, he was resting Ayla gently into what looked like where she normally would sleep.

“We’ve got a whole new adventure, Ponds,” the Doctor grinned at the two, “Ready for it?”

Amy had already sad in the grass, surprised at how soft it was. She flopped back happily, stretching.

“Why not?” Amy replied and Rory smiled proudly.

“Always.”

“Now,” the doctor announced clapping his hands and looking around the grass, “we wait. Always hated waiting. Me.”

“Just sleep it off Raggedy man,” Amy yawned, rolling happily onto her side, “One big nap. Leave a sign for Ayla to wake us.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Rory said quickly with a smile, “I am a nurse.”

“And I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor gave the man a pointed look, “so go sleep with your wife.”

Amy chortled with laughter, Rory chuckling as the Doctor stuttered how that was not what he had meant. “I know Doctor, just… wake us up when she is.”

Amy pulled Rory down to her with another yawn, “Come here big spoon.”

Taking his clothes from his pile, the Doctor dressed as the humans slept around him. Tinkering on the portable screen from the console room, attempting to isolate differences to understand which systems Ayla had interacted with. It would be easy to ask, but the Doctor never was a patient man.

Never.

There was just this one thing the Doctor started to notice.

A pattern he had created after he had rebuilt his Tardis; Idris.

The Doctor blinked rapidly, his hearts beating in tandem racing to a finish line that was nowhere in sight. He had tried so desperately to bring her with him, his eyes were watering as he created the synthetic imaging of the woman he would never forget.

His Tardis.

The Doctor never forgot a face, ever. The recreation was of Idris, and it hurt to look at, hurt to breathe. He sniffed softly so as not to draw attention to himself, willing the tears to halt for a moment.

We wandered over to Ayla’s form, the phoenix hair had been soaked with sweat and blood. It was frizzy, and it was curled. Idris was a brunette, but there was no denying the face structure that was in front of him.

His hearts seemed to skip over themselves at the realisation; the arched brows were the same. More youthful on Ayla, the Doctor noticed with a sad smile. Even the nose, the adorable flat tip delicately pointed. The lips were different, but the pointed jaw with the soft round chin.

His face had seen the face of Ayla’s mother. There was no doubt of that.

But there was no bringing her mother back, the Doctor felt sick at the realisation. The human that had been sacrificed for the Tardis, some part of the woman must-have held on. The Tardis would not purposely harm another. That wasn’t what the construction purpose of the time and relative dimensions in space was for, the Doctor knew that much.

He had reconstructed a Tardis, after all. Their first meeting played over in the Doctor’s mind, and he could feel the bile rising before he could stop it.

Ayla had been offered to the Doctor on a silver platter. He was angry at the intruder, at how she had harmed his companion multiple times without so much as an introduction. He had been so angry at the stowaway, so forceful. Granted he came around toward the end when he saw how frightened she was, but…

The Doctor ran from Ayla to throw up. Coughing dramatically to clear his airways. The Tardis had been punishing him. It knew the Doctor had questions for Ayla, but the Tardis was protecting her.

“She wasn’t finished constructing the room,” the Doctor murmured standing straight. Barely noticing Amy and Rory racing to his side, “That’s why you fell Ayla, you were early.”

“Doctor, what is it? What’s wrong?” Amy demanded desperately, hands filtering over his face, “Rory, does he look the same to you?”

The Doctor pushed the hands away, holding the screen for the couple to see. “Idris,” he stated softly.

“The woman Tardis,” Amy replied, nodding, “What about her?”

It was Rory that made the connection, pulling the screen closer, “It couldn’t be.”

“She looks the same,” the Doctor whispered to Rory, arms flopped sadly to his side. Rory stalked past him, back to Ayla.

“Like who,” Amy demanded, “You’re scaring me, Doctor.”

“Amy. Idris is Ayla’s mother,” the Doctor explained, repeating with a blank stare back at the girl, “Ayla is the daughter of the woman that was sacrificed to a Tardis.”

“How can you be sure?” Amy asked, “We don’t know that. You’re just assuming. You said it’s dangerous to have foreknowledge, this is that. Foreknowledge. You don’t know! Ayla said she didn’t remember, so what?”

The Doctor just shook his head, taking his lovely Pond by the hand and walking her back to Ayla. Rory blinked back at their approaching figures he muttered, “They look similar.”

“We’re going to have to wait,” he murmured with a deeper sigh, “Actually wait for Ayla this time.”

So many questions... still.


End file.
